


Hunter's Moon

by xtricks



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser picked up his feet, chasing after Dief until they stumbled into a tiny clearing in the forest. It was fall here, far south of their homeland, and leaves were falling from the trees, revealing the smoggy night sky and a fat, orange moon grinning down at them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunter's Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Hunter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/111736) by [xtricks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks). 
  * Inspired by [Underground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/111741) by [xtricks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks). 
  * Inspired by [Underground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/111741) by [xtricks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks). 



> Originally posted 4/13/2006. From the old due South generator: _due South Plot Generator: Fraser is in the woods, waiting for something._ I wrote three different stories, using the same prompt.

Breathing hard in the warm air, Fraser followed the ghostly plume of Dief's tail in the moon streaked night. A twig snapped under Fraser's boots and Dief gave a bark of laughter.

"Oh, I'm getting soft am I?" Fraser said irritably, stung by the accuracy of Dief's commentary. "All you seem to catch lately are donuts and fleas." Dief's yip was unrepentant. He was still the better hunter--donuts or caribou.

Fraser picked up his feet, chasing after Dief until they stumbled into a tiny clearing in the forest. It was fall here, far south of their homeland, and leaves were falling from the trees, revealing the smoggy night sky and a fat, orange moon grinning down at them. "The air still reeks," Fraser muttered, tugging at the buttons on his flannel shirt, overheated and restless. He missed the snow and he missed the solitary, deadly splendor of his home.

Even here, deep in the woods, he could still smell car exhaust, was still aware of the thick press of Chicago not far enough away. Unfortunately, it was as far as he could go and even here he was taking risks. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Fraser watched the moon lift higher, waiting. It was the Hunter's Moon, the red fall moon that rose on hot nights to watch the play of life and death on the earth below.

He could feel the moon in his blood, calling as it had all his life. Most of the time he resisted that call, controlled the urges Dief indulged in so shamelessly and kept himself as buttoned up as a tin soldier. So controlled, so buttoned up, so apart that Fraser suspected that no one believed him even capable of simple human urges, let alone the dark call that surged in his blood now. But there was only so much control he could maintain and the Hunter's Moon was a siren call he could not resist. Fraser rubbed his face, licking the salt of his own sweat from his palms; he couldn't deny that he was glad to finally surrender his iron control.

The moon crept higher as he waited in the woods and Fraser could feel it, feel his anticipation like the edge of a knife. Sweat beading on his flushed face, Fraser stripped off his flannel and henley, then bent to remove his boots and kick off his pants. He wore nothing but the striped shadows of branches and goosebumps. The moon crept across the ground and Fraser watched it approach his bare toes, breathing hard and fast, heart racing. When it touched him, that pale, mysterious light, he groaned.

The rush of change was so sweetly intense it was painful. He fell to his knees, sweat and tears dripping from the end of his nose, back arching like a bow, fingers digging into the leaf litter like claws. Dief's moan of support was distant in Fraser's roaring ears and the call--the damnable call--pulled at him, demanding an answer until Fraser screamed a wild reply.

He screamed, then he howled, as his skin split like tearing paper and glossy black fur unfurled over his twisted body. Writhing, Fraser fell onto his side, legs jerking, nails growing into dull black claws, jaw popping and teeth elongating under the light of the Hunter's Moon. He howled again, gagging on the wild agony of his change; smells rushed over him like ocean tides, sounds--Dief's excited panting, the rush of the wind through the branches, the distant sounds of car horns and city buildings. The world changed, colors leaching away and leaving Fraser in a vivid world of blacks and grays. For long moments after the change, Fraser lay panting on his side, tongue lolling, while Dief watched over him. Finally, the black wolf rolled to his feet, shaking his shaggy head and licking leaf dust from his nose.

Diefenbaker yelped playfully and raced away, chasing the scent of rabbits. Fraser followed with a fierce, joyful bark. They'd see who was the better hunter now.

END (5/13/06)


End file.
